Brooding
by viatrix rediens
Summary: Tom Paris spots former Starfleet Captain Kathryn Janeway and starts brooding. It's short and dark and both characters don't belong to me.
1. Chapter 1

He met her in a "Pub". He was sitting in a gloomy booth conversing with a bottle of Scotch, when he caught a glimpse of reddish hair swirling through the air as she bent over with laughter. Her body was leaned against the bar, elbows resting on the counter, one hand gesturing with her drink, the other lightly touching the arm of the bartender. Just enough pressure to make sure she had his full attention, just enough to feel the warmth of another body against her fingertips, but not enough to allow the other person to return the gesture. He knew all that, because she had told him. He downed his drink and fixed his already wavering gaze at his former Captain. It had been more than a year since she left Starfleet, but she still carried the aura of command. Like a corsage, you couldn't see it, but you could see its effect on the person wearing it. She didn't even hold a particularly straight pose, but still she somehow seemed in command. Again she was laughing at something the bartender had told her, throwing her head back, arching her small body away from him, but still keeping her hand on his arm. He was leaning towards her now, whispering something in her ear and stroking a mislead lock of auburn hair back into place. Involuntarily his own grip tightened around the empty glass and he started grinding his teeth. "Time for a refill", he mumbled to whoever might hear him. He didn't want to look at her, didn't want to think of her, but still his eyes were glued to her form. Not being able to tear away from this sight, he did the only thing possible, he kept on watching. She had lost some weight and seemed even tinier than he remembered her. Her hair was again down to her waist and hanging loose, only a few strands tied together with a simple wooden clip to keep it from falling in her face. Her simple anthracite coloured slacks and the cream coloured blouse, made her look … distinguished. She should seem terribly out of place in such a dive, except, that she didn't. She seemed to be completely at ease. Just when he started to wonder how many buttons, she might have left open. She turned around to look directly into his eyes before he could manage to fix his stare at the now almost empty bottle of Scotch in front of him. He was already feeling cornered by the short eye contact. He slowly started to count his breathes, but the desperate attempt to calm himself failed as always. He didn't even know why he tried any more. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he just grabbed the bottle and left.


	2. Chapter 2

She saw him in a boozer. He was hiding in a dark corner, getting drunk all by himself. She turned around feeling watched, just in time to see him quickly averting her eyes/his gaze. His hair was longer now, hanging in uncombed strands in his face. He had grown a beard as well and it was hard to tell were one ended and the other began. She almost hadn't recognized him in his scruffy and raw-boned state, but for his eyes. Those eyes she would know anywhere, almost glowing like a warp core in the scarcely lit room.

The familiar feeling of guilt washed over her immediately; guilt for his condition, guilt for abandoning her crew, for putting all of them in this damned situation in the first place. A soft tug on her hand pulled her out of her reverie. "What is it Katie? Something bothering you?" The genuine concern in his voice, the look of worry on his friendly features that so much reminded her of someone else's... Someone she abandoned too, only because she didn't want to blame herself anymore for stranding them so far away from home and then, even worse, for bringing them back, throwing them into the cold water, thereby destroying everything they had, everything they worked for so hard for seven long and demanding years, all the friendships/relationships that didn't survive their return "home". All her so called "friends" turning away from her with hatred, turning to her with longing and questions in their eyes, always extremes, always difficult, never easy, no way in between.

Blame for forcing her decisions on them.

Blaming herself for always making decisions for others without thinking what it will mean in the long run.

"No", she softly shook her head, "I thought I had seen a ghost from … a former life, but… " She turned around to gesture at Tom, except that there was only an empty table left, a lonely glass the only reminder of its former occupant. "Well he's not even there anymore". She put a little smile on her lips and continued her banter with the barkeeper, she continued to laugh at his jokes, but even in her own ears it sounded hollow and cold.


End file.
